


it comes with a price

by EllieMurasaki



Category: Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) - Florence + the Machine (Song), Seven Devils - Florence + The Machine (Song)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieMurasaki/pseuds/EllieMurasaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophia's trapped. She has no plans to stay that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it comes with a price

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apatternedfever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apatternedfever/gifts), [betony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betony/gifts).



Sophia faces her demons calmly, hands clasped behind her back.

They're not her demons, really, they're her father's. She's heard people say he has the Midas touch, and people always seem to forget that Midas had a daughter, too.

The price on her father's wealth is Sophia herself. She's known that for a long time, seven years almost, since her father let it slip one night. In vodka veritas, as they don't say.

Sophia's father begs, pleads, because now that a bit of his wealth is about to slip through his fingers he's finally seen its value. Her value. There are seven demons, Sophia's father, and Sophia herself. Seven on one on one.

She's had a long time to steel herself up for this. Rather than stand like a rabbit caught in headlights when the first demon takes a step toward her, she whips out one hand and flings the holy water she holds across as many demons as she can get. It sizzles on impact with their skin.

The nearest one, who got it the worst, scoffs. "That won't save you, little girl," she says.

Sophia at eighteen is not a little girl—but Sophia at eleven, when her father made this deal, was. And being a child actress taught Sophia many things, of which one is now crucial.

"You don't own me," Sophia says. "Nobody owns me. Nobody ever owned me. He can't give you to me because I was never his—and _I_ never made any deal with you. I can't have. I was a child. Children can't sign contracts."

Sophia's father stares at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Burn down his whole empire, I don't care," says Sophia. "I'm no part of this. Leave me out."

She was dead this morning and she'll be dead before nightfall, she thinks. But she won't be a sacrifice.

Sophia's father takes advantage of the distraction to throw something at the demon nearest him: more holy water, it seems. The largest demon gets splashed; he roars and throws something black and glowy at Sophia's father, and the other demons divide into threes to control one or the other.

While they're all looking away from her, Sophia runs.

She might not get far. She might not get away at all. (She starts her car; it'll give her a better lead.) But she is damned if she is going to _be_ damned, for something she _did not do_.

_Qua_ Sophia, her life is over however the dice fall. But as someone else—maybe Ricki, for the Lionheart, or Eleanor for his mother—maybe it's just beginning.


End file.
